


a cry at the final breath

by strungoutinheavenshigh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, CC-5052 | Bly is a Good Bro, Character Study, Cody Gets a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Introspection, Kat has a potty mouth, M/M, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Memory Loss, Mild Gore, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Reunions, Trauma, Work In Progress, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strungoutinheavenshigh/pseuds/strungoutinheavenshigh
Summary: CC-2224 was a good soldier, had been decanted, raised, and trained to be a good solider. Good soldiers follow orders, so that's what he did. At times, in the deep recesses of in mind, he might questions his orders, but he always followed them.Cody has to re-learn how to do more than follow orders, to live and fight of his own accord. He's been a soldier all his life, fighting in wars that aren't his. What is freedom to a man who has only ever known captivity?
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 33
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which CC-2224 gets hot and heavy with the semantics of his orders

CC-2224 was a good soldier, had been decanted, raised, and trained to be a good soldier. Good soldiers follow orders, so that's what he did. At times, in the deep recesses of his mind, he might question his orders, but he always followed them. Good soldiers also analyze their circumstances and adapt accordingly. If they didn't think at all, they'd be no better than the clankers. The clankers were piss-poor soldiers: sure, they followed orders, but they did so incompetently. And they were obnoxious. CC-2224 did not want to be like the clankers. 

The trick, he thought, was to analyze commands without doubting them too much. Doubting made his head hurt. Doubting got troopers sent for reconditioning, even the nat-borns. CC-2224 had never heard of so many nat-born troopers before the rise of the Empire and the more time he spent around them, the more he thought he understood why. They were opinionated and outright defiant on occasion, which got them sent for reconditioning _frequently_. In fairness, nat-borns weren't trained from birth to be good soldiers. They were still decent soldiers, they analyzed and followed orders but they doubted too much and too loudly. 

ST-79440 was nat-born, but she learned fast. She didn't doubt out loud and she always followed orders, even when her shoulders were too stiff and her fists were clenched and it was overwhelmingly clear that she disagreed with the orders. Her bucket never came off outside of the barracks, which certainly helped hide any contempt. Or unconventionality. CC-2224 hadn't the first idea how she hid a face full of piercings and shag of hair from their Commander, both of which he was sure were miles out of regulation. He almost admired the effort. CC-2224 liked ST-79440 as much as he liked anyone; she made positive contributions to his company. He would almost go so far as to say he trusted her. Almost.

"I hear Lord Vader is on a rampage," she told him one evening, in the relative privacy of the barracks. ST-79440 was also among his greatest resources for information. Not gossip of course, he only sought relevant information that was pertinent to military strategy and the success of the Empire. It wasn't gossip if it was relevant and verifiable. "Have you ever met him?" 

CC-2224 thought that he might have, but he couldn't remember when or where or how. "No, I don't think so." 

ST-79440 snorted unprofessionally. "You would remember. He's got quite an imposing presence. Big dude. Short temper. He goes on these tears sometimes, just massacres whole villages over something inconsequential." 

He pondered that. Was it treasonous to speak against the Dark Lord? In a way, this counted as improving his situational awareness so as to best serve under Lord Vader, in case he was ever called upon to do so. His head only hurt a little bit when he thought about it. "Have you met him, or is this all hearsay?"

"I haven't _personally_ met him, no, but my source are reliable," she smirked, and his skepticism must have shown on his face. "Oh, '24, ye of little faith! You wound me! We'll see soon enough, because I hear that our ship will be hosting him."

CC-2224 hadn't the first idea how ST-79440 could have gotten that information. He ranked higher than she did and had heard nothing of the sort. Fraternization among troopers was strictly prohibited, especially non-lateral fraternization, but maybe her unconventionality included disregarding that particular rule. He honestly doubted that though. Their superiors were rather stuffy and ST-79440 had extremely high standards, if her stories from before the war were to be believed. Nat-borns were surprisingly open about _before_ , in a way that none of the clone ~~could be~~ were.

Abandoning that train of thought, CC-2224 laid back the durasteel mesh that troopers were given in place of cots. It had more give than the floor, but not by much. He twisted an arm behind his head as a pillow, stiffness in the morning be damned, and thought about gathering intel. ST-79440 might have an outside source feeding her information, outside their battalion or even outside the IAF. Was it treasonous? There was nothing explicitly stated in their directive that prohibited contact with third parties for mission-related purposes. They were not allowed contact with civilians or other battalions for leisure or socialization, but such communication could sometimes yield time-sensitive and mission-relevant information. It was probably safer to go through ST-79440 for such information since she already had sources. That was, _if_ CC-2224 was going to seek said information. His head didn't ache like it did when he stepped outside of permitted speech or action.

CC-2224 dreamt of an army in which battalions coordinated, communicated, trusted each other. He dreamt of an army in which nat-borns were few and far between. One made up of brothers.

* * *

CC-2224's comm beeped at him in the middle of his morning meal, much to his chagrin. It seemed he needed to work on controlling his facial expressions because ST-79440 smirked at him from across their table. 

"CC-2224," he answered without inflection. 

"Captain," General Briel barked back. The man was in a perpetual bad mood. "I need you to report to conference room eight in ten minutes for debriefing." 

"Yessir," CC-2224 intoned, but the call had already been cut. He bit back a sigh and pointedly did not dig his fingers into his temples. 

"Seniority giveth and seniority taketh away," ST-79440 said, unhelpfully, and coughed around a laugh. 

CC-2224 gave her a scathing look that came as naturally as breathing, but it had only ever successfully cowed the ~~shinies~~ newer recruits. ST-79440 only bared her teeth in a too wide grin. "Watch yourself," he warned her as he rose. "Or I'll recommend you for a promotion." 

"'24!" she gasped, clutching at her chest dramatically. "Was that a _joke?_ I must be dreaming! '24!" CC-2224 didn't dignify that with a response and left her sputtering in the mess.

General Briel assembled a handful of Captains and Commanders in conference room eight. "The information you are about to receive is highly confidential and not to be repeated to any individual not surrender in this room," he began sternly. There was already a vein bulging slightly in his forehead and his grip on the edge of the table looked punishing. Briel wasn't exactly what CC-2224 considered physically intimidating, but he was notoriously loose in his orders of reconditioning for his troopers. That was enough to strike fear into any (sane) one of them.

Briel paused for effect and continued, "I have received word that our ship will be hosting and escorting Moff Wilhuff Tarkin and Darth Vader. They are en route to an planet in the Outer Rim called Seelos. Intelligence suggests that there is an influential Rebel outpost on this planet, and that the agent known as Fulcrum will arrive there in two rotations. Lord Vader will eradicate Fulcrum and we will storm this outpost, thus further securing the Empire against the nuisance of the Rebellion." 

None of the troopers responded with so much as a twitch. CC-2224 was warring with shock gripping his spine but to speak or move out of turn was to invite punishment. "Is that understood!?" Briel eventually snapped.

"Sir, yes, sir!" they barked in unison, not wavering from attention. Briel bared his teeth.

"Dismissed, then!" 

CC-2224 turned on his heel and followed the other troopers out the door. He'd taken all of a dozen steps before the trooper in front of him stopped abruptly in his tracks and CC-2224 very nearly smacked into their back. 

"CC-2224?" the trooper turned and asked. His voice was modulated by his helmets speaker but CC-2224 was well accustomed to the one the clones shared. 

"Aye?" 

The trooper jerked a nod. "CC-5052," he tapped his own chest in introduction. "That's CC-2400 and CC-1010. Do you use a name?" 

CC-2224's brain stuttered. Clones didn't have names, and this clone surely knew that. Pressure began to build around his skull. Were they allowed to talk about this? He shook his head, wincing when it pulsed in protest.

"Alright," CC-5052 grunted and crossed his arms. "We're going to go over the mission parameters, General Briel will forward them to each of us. Will you join us?" 

This is gathering information, CC-2224 reminded himself, trying to will away his headache. Mission-relevant information. Analyzing orders. This is allowed. The vice around his head loosened slightly. "Do you have a secure location?" 

CC-5052 nodded and gestured for him to follow. His headache was gradually fading, so CC-2224 grit his teeth and fell into step beside the other clone. "Are the rest of the troops coming?" he asked after a long pause. 

"Just us," CC-5052 said with a shrug. "The others weren't interested." 

They ended up at the door to someone's private quarters in a part of the ship he'd never been through before. The dust on the pad indicated that no one had used this room in quite some time. CC-5052 entered the code and the door slid open with a low groan. 

"Whose quarters are these?" CC-2224 asked quietly as he crossed the threshold behind the others. 

"No one's anymore. I come down here for privacy, they don't monitor it." CC-5052's voice struck an odd tone and he yanked his bucket off, sticking it on a desk at the back of the room. CC-2224 managed not to startle at the sight of his own face under a mop of loose curls. He hesitated to remove his own helmet but it seemed the others had fewer reservations. CC-1010 revealed a vertical line of text tattooed under his left eye. CC-2400 had a beard. They'd differentiated themselves. Were they allowed to do that? Did most of the clones do that? He couldn't remember any explicit regulation against it but he'd assumed... CC-2224 pulled off his bucket and tucked it under his arm. 

They were a strange bunch, he thought. Familiarity itched at the back of his mind but he couldn't pinpoint its origin. 

CC-1010 cleared his throat. "He doesn't use a name. Do any of you?" That made CC-2224's head ache again. Did this count as gathering information? Technically, the troops he would be working with were relevant to this mission. Did that count? It had to count. The others would have the same headache if it didn't. They were following orders. Orders stated that all troopers were to fulfill mission parameters to the best of their ability, and this would improve his ability to work with these men to coordinate their respective companies. His headache lessened by degrees. 

"Bly," CC-5052 choked out with his eyes fixed on CC-2224, full of emotion that he hadn't seen in a clone ~~since the fall of the Republic~~ before.

"Fox," CC-1010 said. 

They looked to CC-2224 and he just barely managed not to grimace. He shook his head instead. 

"Me neither," CC-2400 said quietly, twisting his hands together. 

They stood in the peculiar atmosphere of the room for a long moment, examining each other. Something tense crackled in the air, like he was standing at the edge of a cliff and looking down. Familiarity tugged at CC-2224's mind again, but that didn't make any sense. He decided that it had to be the act of staring at his own face that sent chills down his spine. His company had a lot of nat-borns in it. He just wasn't used to be being in a room with only clones. 

"Right, then," CC-50-- _Bly_ huffed and settled himself on a chair. "Have any of you met Moff Tarkin?" 

"Yes," Fox's face twisted into a scowl. CC-2224's mind itched. "He's a perfectionist. Ruthless. The Emperor favors him, I think he was the first Moff he ever named. He prosecuted a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, a long time ago. Back when there still _were_ Jedi." His voice faded out but the scowl remained in place. "He doesn't like clones. Avoid speaking out of turn, even more than usual. He's worse than General Briel about ordering reconditioning." 

A collective wince rippled through the room. "What about Lord Vader?" CC-2224 heard himself ask. 

Bly and Fox shared a meaningful look that CC-2224 couldn't begin to decipher. 

"I've met him," CC-2400 spoke just above a whisper, something haunted in his eyes. "Or at least been around him. He's dark. Sucks the light and warmth out of a room. Before the suit, I remember thinking he was just a kid. He was so angry. It got worse after the suit though. I think he hates the Jedi even more than the Emperor. He's, err, not too bad to clones, but he lashes out at his own men when he loses his temper. I saw him strangle an officer once for asking about a plan. Steer clear if you can and give him wide berth if you can't. They say that Force-users can read emotions so if you know how to shield your mind, it's a good idea."

Somehow, CC-2224 had never thought about Vader existing outside the suit. But that wasn't quite right. There had to be a time before it, maybe before CC-2224's time. That didn't seem right either. Had he met Vader? 

"'24? You good?" Bly was looking at him with a raised brow. That seemed familiar, too. 

CC-2224 shook himself and nodded. "Yeah, I just hadn't thought about Lord Vader before the suit. I think maybe I-- but I can't--" The room tilted off its axis and his head _pounded._ He couldn't quite resist the instinct to press the heel of his palm into the side of his head, couldn't quite suppress a hard flinch. "I don't remember," he finally managed to grind out through clenched teeth.

"That's alright, don't hurt yourself." There was a hand on his shoulder. CC-2224 opened his eyes. CC-5052. Bly. Bly's hand was on his shoulder; the other clone looked distinctly concerned. "We're discussing a mission. Knowledge of Tarkin and Vader will help us in effectively accommodating them during their stay. That knowledge includes details of temperament so that we can minimize risk of injury. You don't have to tell us anything that you _can't_ say." 

CC-2224's breathing eventually evened out and it was like he'd been completely sapped of energy. He let Bly guide him to a couch and dropped down onto it. His headache was easing. Bly was right. They were in line with regulation. At least technically. "Sorry," he croaked. "It caught me off guard." 

Fox shook his head. "It happens. We can call it for now. Are you comfortable exchanging comm codes? For mission-relevant communication?" 

CC-2224 nodded without thinking. That would be helpful. For their mission. He let CC-2400 punch his code into his comm and watched him leave the room. Bly and Fox were talking about... something. CC-2224 felt hazy. Disconnected from his body. 

"What broke it for you?" 

"This was Aayla's ship, before. Too many reminders not to recognize them. He doesn't have that."

"We're probably the greatest jolt he's gotten."

"Hmm. You heard from Rex? They know we're coming?"

_Rex?_

"Yeah. They'll be as ready as they can. We're not sure how details got leaked, probably a mole in the ranks." 

" _Osik_."

"Yeah."

They got both of their codes into his comm while he was spaced out. CC-2224 staggered to his feet when Bly tugged on his elbow. 

"You should go to the barracks if you can, sleep this off," Bly was saying, handing CC-2224 his bucket. 

His hands felt numb. "How did you get a name?" he asked, even though it sent ice lancing through his skull. 

"I chose it," Bly replied gently, keeping a steady hand on the back of CC-2224's neck and holding his gaze. His eyes were lighter than CC-2224's own. That struck him as a strange genetic mutation given that such variances were supposed to be bred out of the clones. "When I was a cadet. I think I just like how it sounded. Someone else named him," he jerked a thumb at Fox, who scowled again. CC-2224 got the impression that it was a common expression for him. "Because he hoarded shiny things, and forbidden things, in his bunk. Like a fox, right?" 

CC-2224 blinked and some of the fog in his mind cleared. Gathering information about his ~~brothers~~ team would help him complete this mission. He couldn't specifically recall what behaviors were common in foxes but nodded anyway. 

"You know," Bly smiled and clapped CC-2224 on the shoulder, looking pleased that he didn't sway. "A name is really just another means of identification, if you think about it. All of the nat-borns have them. Really, it's not that different from a designation. Faster to say, too! And isn't it important for efficiency to have quick call-signs during missions?" 

That _sort of_ made sense. Their directive stated that clones don't have names, not, explicitly, that they _couldn't_ have names. CC-2224 nodded again. 

He still felt off kilter as Bly walked him through the hall. He didn't think the other clone knew where his company's barracks were, but didn't have the mental wherewithal to get there on his own. CC-2224 wondered how concerned he should be about his apparent malfunctioning. ST-79440's voice pierced the fog in his mind. He wondered if she had a name.

The next time he blinked, he was seated on his bunk. ST-79440 was sitting across from him with his bucket in her hands, looking worried. Why did everyone look so worried about him? 

"You good, '24?" she asked after giving him ample time to explain on his own. 

CC-2224 shrugged. "Headaches are bad today." She would know what that meant. He'd told her how the headaches worked. Apparently, she didn't get them like he did; nat-borns didn't get them like the clones did. "All nat-born's have names, right?" he asked without bothering with a segue.

"Yeah, our parents give them to us when we're born," she said with a raised brow. 

"So you have one."

ST-79440 narrowed her eyes at him. Her eyes were grey. He didn't know if he'd ever seen grey eyes before. Except that wasn't right. Copper and grey flashed in his mind, but grasping at the ~~memory~~ flash was all kinds of painful. "Yeah," ST-79440 finally replied. "Yeah, my name's Kat. Do you have a name?" 

Did he? Could he? The vice around his head was furious. "I don't know," he heard himself say. And then he was unconscious. 

He dreamt about thousands of clones with his face. He dreamt about brotherhood, what he thought it would be like. He dreamt about someone called Rex.

* * *

Lord Vader's arrival was extremely dramatic. General Briel's battalion stood in formation and at attention while an Imperial Shuttle set down in their hangar. After its engines powered down, the silence that fell was heavy. CC-2224 thought, perhaps still not possessing all of his mental faculties, that Lord Vader ought to have music prepared for these moments. A theme song. That would likely be sufficiently dramatic for a Sith Lord. Instead, the Shuttle's ramp lowered and Lord Vader stomped down, flanked by two Royal Guards, cape billowing behind him. Tarkin stalked down last, hands behind his back and face impassive. The temperature in the hangar seemed to drop by several degrees. 

"General Briel," Lord Vader rumbled without preamble. "How long will it take to reach Seelos?" 

"We will arrive in orbit in approximately 36 hours, My Lord." General Briel wasn't visibly trembling, but his voice betrayed his fear. "I've briefed the commanding officers with the mission parameters, the troops will be ready when the time comes." 

Lord Vader stood stock still, his loud breathing was the only sound in the room. CC-2224 was tempted to hold his own breath, lest he accidentally make any noise. "Very well," the Sith finally said. "Show me to the bridge. Bring these commanding officers." 

CC-2224 cursed his luck even as he dropped out of formation at the General's signal and fell into step beside Fox. He felt confident that any Force-sensitive would easily feel the buzz of anxious tension in the air, but Vader didn't indicate as much. 

"Identify them, General," the Sith ordered when the reached the bridge.

General Briel hesitated, and CC-2224 knew it was because he couldn't tell any of their uniforms. "These are Captains and Commanders 1010, 19733, 78265, 2400, 2224, 5052, and 33233." And that wasn't in any particular order, but it likely wouldn't matter. 

Lord Vader presumably looked over them. His helmet betrayed nothing. CC-2224 felt phantom tendrils poke at his shields and nearly sagged with relief when they didn't tear any deeper into his mind. He stamped down nagging familiarity because this was _not_ the time for such nonsense.

"Quite a bunch you have, General. You trust these clones with such a sensitive mission?"

Briel hesitated _again_ , CC-2224 noted with no small amount of surprise. This time, the chill in the air became significantly more pronounced. "Um. Yes, My Lord. They follow orders to the letter and have given me no reason to doubt their loyalty to the Empire." 

Lord Vader hummed, but didn't question that flimsy declaration of reliability. "Fulcrum is a high value target. I will be confronting them alone. You all will take two companies and strike the Rebel base. Moff Tarkin will join you, treat him as your commanding officer on the ground. The Rebels have no reason to anticipate this attack, you will have the element of surprise."

"Lord Vader, if I may," one of the nat-borns, ST-33233, interjected and all at once, it was like an airlock had opened and sucked the oxygen from the bridge. This was what CC-2224 meant when he thought nat-borns were only _decent_ soldiers. Although in fairness, this was more like an individual's absolute lack of self-preservation than any generalizable behavior. Lord Vader had stopped pacing mid-stride and snapped his gaze to ST-33233, who suddenly seemed more reluctant to speak. "I have, that is, some of us have done some research on Fulcrum. We might be able to help you confront them? Speculation is that they used to be a Jed--" he cut off with a wet, strangled noise. 

"This battle will not be won through overconfidence and speculation!" Lord Vader thundered with fury that would have been impressive if it wasn't so terrifying. ST-33233 hovered at least a foot off the floor, scrabbling at his neck. "I do not need backup from a _Stormtrooper_ who thinks himself a researcher. Fulcrum is a greater foe than any of you have ever faced." 

Something squelched under ST-33233's helmet. CC-2224 grimaced privately, but none of the clones in the lineup reacted visibly. The nat-born to his left flinched when Lord Vader flung his victim across the bridge, where he crumpled against a control panel and didn't rise again. 

"Defiance will not be tolerated on this mission," Lord Vader stated with renewed calm. CC-2224 thought he'd made that rather clear. "2224, I'd like a word in private. The rest of you get out of my sight." 

CC-2224 pointedly did not react. The absence of the other troopers left him feeling exposed, like Lord Vader could see through his armor. Maybe he could. CC-2224 didn't really know much about how the Force worked. ~~_The Force is not magic,_ _Co_~~ _ ~~mmander.~~_

"I understand that you're an extremely competent Captain, 2224. Have you also researched Fulcrum?" 

"Not beyond mission notes and briefs, My Lord. The 'net is rarely a reliable source," he responded honestly, knowing Vader would be able to tell. 

Lord Vader hummed and stopped to stand in front of CC-2224. He was a full head taller than all of the clones but CC-2224 kept his gaze straight ahead, almost afraid to look up into the dark visor from this close. "Indeed. The rumor is that they are a reject of the Jedi Order, yet they stand against the Empire that eradicated the Order. What do you think of that?" 

CC-2224 forced himself to give it due thought. Not all who opposed the Empire were allies of the Republic and vice versa; it was reductive to think of an organization as diverse as the Rebellion in such black and white terms. One could also be rejected from an order and still sympathize with its principles. If Fulcrum was once a Jedi, they could oppose the Empire solely for its alignment with the Sith. "I don't put much stock in rumors, My Lord, but if Fulcrum used to be a Jedi, then they could still have Jedi sympathies."

"I would think that such rejection would foster hate of the Order," Lord Vader disagreed, his voice coloring with anger. CC-2224 locked his muscles to keep from recoiling. "Why would they not stand with the Sith, who can teach them to use that hate? The teachings of the Jedi are obsolete. They fell because of their ignorance! Why would one still believe in such archaic ideals as serenity over passion?" 

It took several seconds for CC-2224 to realize that wasn't a rhetorical question. "I'm afraid I don't know, My Lord. I can't claim to understand the beliefs of the Jedi."

"No?" the Sith tilted his head to one side, almost as if in challenge. "What _can_ you claim to know of the Jedi?" 

CC-2224 considered this, wracking his brain for something more than 'the Jedi were traitors who betrayed the Republic'. It gave him a headache, like reaching for a lost memory. "They were child-stealers," he said, part of him vaguely aware that it was a canned response ~~that he knew was a lie~~. "They forced members to abandon their loved ones. They taught that emotions and attachments are the root of evil. They were traitors who betrayed the Republic." 

"And why would anyone cling to such callous beliefs?" 

~~Because there was always more to it than that.~~ "I don't know, My Lord. It seems a lonely way to live."

Lord Vader considered him for a long moment during which CC-2224 fully expected to feel invisible fingers close around his throat, but they never came. "I agree, Captain. Very well. You may leave." 

And if CC-2224 marched out the slightly faster than standard military pace, it wasn't acknowledged.

"Well? What did he want?" Bly asked as soon as CC-2224 stepped into the abandoned quarters and the door shut behind him. 

Free from surveillance, CC-2224 let himself slump backwards against the wall. He pulled off his bucket with shaking hands and dropped it on the floor. Words spilled out of him like a dam had broken. "He asked me if I'd researched Fulcrum, said there's a rumor that they used to be a _jetii_ , that they were rejected or expelled or something. He wanted to know why someone like that would oppose the Empire. And he asked what I knew of the Jedi. I-- I told the truth, I don't know that much! I don't know what he thought I would know."

Bly and Fox exchanged a loaded glance. They did so fairly often, he noticed. "He could've pulled any of us for that. Do you know why he chose you?" 

He'd like to know the answer to that as well. "No? I haven't even seen a Jedi since Utapau." Pain shot through his head whenever he thought about that day but there was something _important_.

"Since Order 66," CC-2400 added quietly. "There aren't any more Jedi. Not since then."

Fox was scowling again but his eyes reflected more sorrow than anger. "No, you're right. And if this Fulcrum character used to be a Jedi, all it means is that they can use the Force. They'll be Vader's problem, anyway. Regardless, we need a plan of attack for this Rebel base." 

CC-2224 half listened to the brainstorming around him, contributed where he could, but his mind was stuck on the bridge. Why him? He would know if he was somehow connected to Fulcrum, wouldn't he? What did (didn't?) he know of the Jedi? The answers hovered just beyond his reach, hidden behind a locked door in his mind.

"Bly," he interrupted the conversation abruptly, getting the immediate attention of the other three. "The other day. Who's Rex?" 

Bly's eyes went wide. "Rex is a friend. A brother, really. Why?"

Which was a great question. "I don't know. The name sounded familiar." A fully fledged migraine was brewing behind his eyes. "Things have seemed strange recently. Familiar but not."

CC-2400 suddenly nodded vigorously, almost desperately. "I've been getting _vicious_ headaches. And weird dreams." He winced, small but sharp. CC-2224 nodded, though; he'd been having weird dreams as well.

Bly and Fox looked between them and, not for the first time, CC-2224 got the feeling that he and CC-2400 were out of some loop. There was a split clearly delineated by names and lack thereof. It was a profoundly irritating feeling, but every time he tried to address it, his brain felt like it was trying to ooze out his ears. 

"We should all get some rest," Fox changed the subject gracelessly but it was welcome, it eased CC-2224's headache minutely. "Busy day tomorrow. 2400, do you know any field medicine? My medic is out of commission."

CC-2400's face twisted oddly, like CC-2224 was sure his own did when these talks left him inexplicably reeling. "Uh. Yeah, yeah I do," he spoke softly, as he often did, and looked distinctly confused. 

"Perfect. You and your men will be with me, then. We'll take the frontal approach. Bly, '24, you flank from behind. The nat-borns and their troops can split between us as they like, I'll send them the plan we have so far. We can't know how many at at this base so try to get as close as you can without being seen, surprise gives us the best possible chance. We'll be in orbit by 05:00, boots on the ground by 06:00. Go get some rest." Fox heaved a sigh and pulled a face. "I have a bad feeling about this."

_"You've jinxed us, now!" Rex was shouting over the sound of blasterfire. Smoke and sand stung his eyes."If I had a credit for every time the General said that and then everything went to banthashit!"_

CC-2224 blinked, inhaled sharply, shook his head, and collapsed.

"Kriff," Fox deadpanned. "I said it didn't I." Bly tried to channel all of his immense dissatisfaction into a glare with moderate success.

CC-2224 dreamt of armor painted gold, a sunburst on a chestplate. He dreamt of a battlefield covered in sand that got through the cracks in his armor and stung his eyes and crunched between his teeth. He dreamt of training his sights and opening fire on droids instead of Rebels. He dreamt of treason.

* * *

Seelos was a miserable excuse for a planet, CC-2224 concluded after an hour of marching across barren plains. It was flat for as far as he could see, with the exception of a mountain range on the horizon to the north and crags of rock jutting from the ground like tumors. It was hardly ideal cover. They were looping wide around the Rebel base in an effort to avoid detection, but it almost felt like a lost cause. Sweat rolled down the side of his face and he silently cursed the shoddy climate control in his bucket. ~~His old armor had been superior in every way.~~

An explosion rang out from the direction of the base.

"This is CC-1010," Fox's voice came through the shared command comms, sounding unimpressed by the world in general. "Be advised, Alpha team has been detected."

The distinct, staticky crackle of a sigh followed the updated. "Understood," Bly acknowledged. "Bravo team should be in position shortly."

By some miracle, they got within blaster range of the base without being spotted. Their squad was smaller than Alpha team, which made it somewhat easier to move quick and quiet. And as luck would have it, there was a sizeable cluster of jagged rocks that would provide some semblance of cover. CC-2224 crouched in their shade and pulled binocs from his belt to assess the situation at the back door. Two guards with A280 rifles were posted at the door. Another two were up on the roof with cannons at either corner. As he watched, a fifth one paced the perimeter of the building. It was very lax for a base under siege, he thought, but perhaps their forces were concentrated out front.

"Alright," CC-2224 said, switching his comm to Bravo team's channel. "We need to take out the artillery on the roof first, before they see us, then the two at the door, then we're going to break for the door. I want three of you to get up on the roof, see if you can't get those cannons turned around and lay down cover fire for Alpha team. ST-19733 and CC-7979, I want you on the cannons. ST-10221, go up there and cover them. CC-5052, ST-32587, and I are going inside to try to shut down their communications and get what intel we can. We'll come out the front when we're done and join the fight. Five of you are going to flank each side of the base, take out their patrols, and rendezvous with a branch of Alpha team. You'll be a second front firing from behind. The rest of you stay here and keep eyes on the back door. Comm if there's any activity, I don't want any surprises. Questions?"

"If I may," Bly spoke up. "I'd recommend swapping ST-32587 and ST-79440. She's quieter and faster, better at infiltration. No offense, ST-32587."

ST-32587 shrugged.

"Alright. ST-79440, you're with us. I've got the cannon on the right, fire on my command." 

CC-2224 took aim, took a breath, and gestured to begin their strike. Blasterfire sang around him, dropping the four Rebels before they had a chance to return fire and he felt adrenaline pulse through him limbs. "Let's move!" 

Once through the doors, CC-2224 thought again that this all felt a touch too easy. The halls looked deserted at first glance. No alarms sounded. He wondered for the nth time about the Rebellion's preparedness for the undertaking of standing up to the Empire, they seemed rather disorganized. It made him feel paranoid, buzzing with energy and no outlet for it.

"Here, I think I know where the command center would be," Bly hissed through their comms. "Do either of you have that map?" 

CC-2224 furrowed his brow. "I don't think I got any map." 

"Kriffing Tarkin," Bly huffed. "Okay. '440, on my six. '24, take up the rear. Tarkin showed me a map of this place but I only remember the general direction we need to go." 

The farther they went, the more understandable that lack of clarity became. The base appeared small from the outside but it extended underground several levels. CC-2224 followed behind Kat down to level B-3 and tried to recall whether any map of the compound had ever been mentioned, with General Briel or in their private meetings. He'd gotten lost in his head, distracted, while they slunk down a hallway and through a pair of heavy doors. Shaking his head and reorienting, he looked around at the room, which appeared more like a makeshift med-bay than a command center. The suspicion that had rooted into CC-2224's mind sharpened into a chilling realization, thoughts of this map that only Bly had seen and swapping Kat into the infiltration squad and how they hadn't made any obviously wrong turns yet and a private mention of _'they know we're coming'_. CC-2224's blood ran cold all at once. His hand twitched toward his blaster. 

"Kat!" Bly snapped abruptly. CC-2224's gaze snapped to the Commander and he found himself looking down the barrel of his rifle. In a rush of movement, taking advantage of his momentary shock, Kat snatched CC-2224's blaster from his belt and trained it on him as well. 

"What--"

"'24," Bly interrupted him. **_Traitor!_** , his mind shouted. "Hey, look at me. It's going to be okay, _vod_. I know you haven't know me long, but I need you to trust me, okay?"

**_Traitor to the Empire_** , CC-2224's mind hissed. 

**_Troopers of the Empire are to eliminate traitors to the Empire at all costs. Rebels are traitors to the Empire._ **

**_Good soldiers follow orders._ **

Something snapped behind his eye. CC-2224 lunged at Bly before he'd made the conscious decision to do so and got the butt of a rifle to his bucket for the effort. His head snapped back. The throbbing compounded.

**_Good soldiers follow orders._ **

"'24! Force fuck it all," Bly raised his voice, almost shouted as he circled carefully around CC-2224. "Listen to me, soldier! That's an order!" 

**_Good soldiers follow orders._ **

CC-2224's feet were suddenly like lead. He swayed slightly. ~~Bly~~ The **traitor** had infiltrated his chain of command. His orders didn't matter. He shook his head and snarled, "You're a traitor to the Empire! A karking Rebel dog!" 

**_Good soldiers follow orders._ **

He tried to lunge at the **traitor** again but ~~Kat~~ his partner had gotten close enough to twist his arms behind his back. CC-2224 jerked against her hold, dislocated his shoulder. The pain didn't matter. He was a good soldier. He had to follow orders. Eliminate the traitors. Growling wordlessly, CC-2224 wrenched himself free but the damage was done. The traitor at his back swept his legs and he couldn't keep his balance with his hands shackled behind him; his knees hit the ground hard, the impact jolting up through his legs. Pain didn't matter.

The **traitor** behind him had a durasteel grip on his shoulders. CC-2224 was _failing to follow orders_. He snarled at the Rebel dog in troopers' armor, baring his teeth like a feral beast when his helmet was stolen. 

"It'll be okay, '24," the **traitor** sighed, pulling his own helmet off. CC-2224 spat on his boots. 

"Have to eliminate traitors to the Empire," CC-2224 heard himself hiss, straining against the hold on him. "Good soldiers follow orders." 

Then the doors slid open again and CC-2224 scrambled for an escape plan, hesitating when more Rebels entered the room. They were almost certainly going to try to torture him for information. He scowled at the newcomers. They could try. If he couldn't kill the traitors, he could at least waste their time. 

" _Haar'chak_ ," one of the new traitors said as they approached, just above a whisper. CC-2224 was about the tell them where to shove it when they tore off their goggles and headgear, and his thoughts ground to a halt. That was _his_ face. He was a clone. 

The traitor clone had a crew cut of platinum hair. Familiarity didn't just tug or itch this time, it _yanked_ at the back of his mind because he _knew_ \-- 

The blonde ~~traitor~~ clone crouched in front of CC-2224, eye to eye. 

CC-2224 couldn't breathe.

"Rex?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one:  
> Me: googling "ways to describe a headache" after typing variations of "throbbing" 1000000 times
> 
> I took some creative liberties with this, clearly. I couldn't quite write fully robotic Cody so this is what I settled on, just extremely specific semantics everywhere. 
> 
> I've loosely drafted like 4-5 chapters and am hoping to keep it about that long but tbh who knows
> 
> this isn't beta'd! please point out anything I missed in editing!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Cody gets a hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'M FLying too close to the sun!!!!! canon is a dartboard and I am playing blind
> 
> I'm one of Those who headcanons clones as culturally semi-Mandalorian and as such, this chapter contains Mando'a (in italics). translations will be at the bottom and will update as I add to the story. 
> 
> somehow I ended up with memories, Mando'a, and emphasis all happening in italics. formatting is So Hard. pLease tell me if it's confusing and I'll change something

_It was storm season on Kamino, which meant heavier rain and stronger winds on top of already heavy rain and strong winds. Thunder seemed to rattle the entire cloning facility instead of just the windows and outer walls. Some young, naïve part of Cody always worried that his youngest brothers, not yet decanted, would rattle right out of their tubes. He worried that the facility would flood again, even though it had only happened once, when he was small. The longnecks said it was important that he didn't show his anxiety, regardless. He was supposed to be a role model for the younger batches, not feed their worries._

_Those of them in the command track shared less crowded bunks than other cadets, not sharing beds or piling on top of each other to sleep. Cody was proud to have been selected, he really was, but sometimes he missed being able to curl around his brothers when storms raged or nightmares struck. Or, he would, if Rex didn't crawl into his bunk whenever thunder reverberated through the halls._

_Cody tightened his arm around the smaller boy spooned against his chest, facing away from the flashing windows. "You can't keep doing this forever, Rex'ika," he murmured against his ear between crashes of thunder. "The storm can't hurt you, but Hom-Yih would get us both in trouble if he knew you were in here." He didn't need to remind any of his brothers of the threat of reconditioning if they were thought to be defective or weak or rebelling or out of line in any way._

_"No one's gonna tell on me," Rex always insisted, always wriggled closer, as if Cody could ever push him away. As if Cody had the heart to do anything besides hold him close, breathe into his hair, and hope to ka'ra that Rex was right._

_There was no denying that Cody had a soft spot a mile wide for Rex. For all that the longnecks complained about the younger cadet's excessive spirit and stubbornness and attitude, Cody saw a boy with potential to be the best of them. Rex's fire would burn hot and as warm air, they would all rise higher for it._

"I told you we'd be okay, _vod_. You can wake up now, I promise we're safe. Rex is gonna dig grooves in the floor, pacing around like a restless tooka-- ow! See!? So, uh, wake up? Please?"

_"I'm telling you, vod, the sim is rigged," Waxer griped at Cody over their lunch of tasteless rations. Usually, when Fett was on world, he would bring a bulk of herbs and spices and they would get one real meal of Mandalorian cuisine before he left. Cody was looking forward to it, but eager anticipation made the rations seem more bland than usual by comparison. "-- to throw us into no-win situations!" his brother was saying, gesturing emphatically._

_Boil looked ready to pull his hair out. "For the thousandth time, it's not rigged and it's not a no-win situation. You're just shite at managing resources."_

_Cody sighed and tilted his head back, asking the ceiling to give him strength, when his gaze snagged on the window overlooking the mess. Taun-We was gesturing broadly at them, which wasn't unusual, but there was a man with her. A man that wasn't Fett. Cody had never seen a man who was neither a brother nor the Prime before. This one looked nothing like them. He was wrapped in a heavy brown robe and soaked soaked to the bone, and he was so pale. Cody wondered if the man was sick from the rain or if people just came in that color. Beyond the strange shade of his skin, his hair was red and his eyes were grey and Cody couldn't help but stare._

_"What are you--" Waxer started to ask as he turned in his seat, cutting himself off with a jolt. "Who is_ that _?"_

_Cody had no idea, and said as much._

_"He's dressed like a jetii," Boil's voice reflected some of the awe that Cody felt, that they all felt._

_The redheaded man looked over them with a vaguely pained expression. Cody wondered again if the man was sick, whether he should send a medic up just in case, whether he could be a jetii, and then those grey eyes locked on his own and his thoughts stuttered to a halt. He had no point of reference, but he thought that grey eyes had to be uniquely beautiful. His pulse thumped in his ears, then the man turned back to Taun-We and they continued on._

_Cody's face felt hot._

_Waxer whirled back around with wide eyes. "D'you reckon all of them look like that? Because I'm suddenly all the more excited to be of servi-- hey!" he sputtered, because Boil had thrown a full glass of water in his face. In light of the protective (possessive?) impulse_ _that surged through his chest at the words, Cody didn't even chastise him for it_

"Hey, _ori'vod_. Um. It's Rex. I- I need you to come back, Cody. I can't. We can't-- You're so close. Don't you dare come this close and then leave me again. You said you'd always be there for me, you promised-- _Fuck._ Don't you break that promise, Cody, so help me-- Not again."

_Zygerria had been an unmitigated disaster, Cody knew that well enough from the reports. Per request, the 501st had been updating him as best they could until he could get to his General. As such, he knew it would be bad. Knowing some of what to expect and actually seeing the aftermath of such a disaster of a mission were two entirely different things._

_Rex was already in medical when Cody made his perfectly controlled and definitely not panicked entrance._

_"Commander!" Kix snapped without preamble, halting him in his tracks. "Calm yourself or get out of my, err,_ his _med-bay." Across the room, Bones was snapping his own orders into his comm. He would have undoubtedly shared the sentiment if he could spare them any attention._

_So Cody hauled in a breath, held it, counted to ten, and blew it out. His hands were still shaking. "What's the damage?" he asked, wondering if he even wanted to know. Rex was pale and still on his cot, connected to a worrisome number of machines, and his entire torso was wrapped in bandages. A thick burn scar wrapped around his neck from the shock collar he'd worn for the past few days. The slave collar, because Rex had been in a slave camp. Because Rex had been a slave._

_"It's not pretty, sir," Kix began, even though that went without saying. "Four cracked ribs, severe electric burns, deep lacerations across the dorsal region, early symptoms of malnutrition. I want to dunk him for a few hours but we've only got the one tank." The medic's voice had gone soft, which was a terrible sign._

_"Is General Kenobi in it?"_

_Cody stared as Kix honest to Force fidgeted for a full eight seconds. The anxiety bubbling in his gut was rapidly climbing toward panic again. "We can't get ahold of Kenobi, sir," the medic finally admitted sheepishly, refusing to look Cody in the eye. "Bones has some men sweeping the ship for him. The Captain said Kenobi was worse off so we wanted to get him in the bacta first."_

_Pressing the back of his hand to Rex's forehead, Cody shut his eyes and tried, desperately, to center himself. His di'kutla jetii would be the death of him. "Get Rex in the tank. I'll find Kenobi and we'll take care of him on the_ Negotiator _. Send any preliminary info over to Helix."_

_Bones was saying something to him but Rex had been beaten nearly to the point of breaking in some Force forsaken mine and Kenobi was missing and Cody couldn't find the energy to pay him any mind. He slammed his bucket on and left the medics to fix Rex. And they_ would _fix Rex. There was no alternative. Otherwise, Cody would raze the kriffing galaxy to the ground for having the sheer audacity to take his baby brother from him._

_Cody shook himself against the raw fury clouding his judgment and marched, didn't stomp, from the_ Triumphant _to the docked_ Negotiator _. "Helix, prep the bacta tank. I'm bringing General Kenobi to medical," he said, didn't growl, into his comm._

_Fortunately for Cody, his General was a creature of habit. With a final, grand effort, he reeled in his emotions and locked them behind his shields. It wouldn't do to worsen the General's condition by projecting his own mental state._

_"General?" he called through the door upon arriving at Kenobi's rooms, knocking a touch harder than strictly necessary. "General Kenobi, it's Cody. Let me in, sir?"_

_The lack of response was not comforting. Cody steeled his resolve and punched in Kenobi's access code, rationalizing that the General would hide it better if he hadn't wanted him to know it. Beyond the door, the rooms were unnaturally chilly. When Cody pulled off his helmet, the air tasted almost stale. General Kenobi was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, back straight, staring at a fixed point on the rug._

_"General?" Cody tried again, his voice softer this time. He approached like he would a startled animal, slowly, telegraphing his every move. "Can you hear me?" No response. Cody swallowed his mounting panic and crouched down in front of his Jedi. Kenobi was paler than normal, with alarmingly dark circles under his eyes and an expression Cody had only ever seen on troopers suffering from battle fatigue. He'd never seen his General like this before and it send frigid bolts of fear straight to his core. "Sir?"_

_Against his every instinct as a soldier and every reg in the book, Cody reached out and took one of the General's hands, holding it between both of his own. The man finally blinked, his gaze snapping to their hands and then to Cody's face. He didn't pull away, though. "Cody," he eventually said, just above a whisper. "Is there a problem?"_

_A problem. Cody couldn't help glancing down at the burn encircling the General's neck, the one that matched Rex's. Kenobi stiffened under his scrutiny. "Yessir, there's a problem," he spoke softly and met the General's eyes again. "Kix dumped Rex in a bacta tank. He's going to be okay. The problem is that you're not letting us take care of you."_

_"That's hardly your job," Kenobi mumbled, as he always did. "I'm perfectly--"_

_"All due respect, General," Cody nipped that damnable phrase in the bud. "If it's not my job to take care of you, then it_ is _my privilege. And you're not perfectly fine, sir. Please." Grey eyes met Cody's brown, shining with some unidentifiable emotion. A weighted silence stretched between them and Cody briefly worried that he'd overstepped, but then the General seemed to deflate by several degrees. "At least let me help you clean up, sir, then maybe Helix's blood pressure will have a chance of recovery when he sees you."_

_Kenobi attempted a smile, but it was more perfunctory than genuine, didn't reach his eyes. He looked so thoroughly exhausted that it made Cody's own body feel heavier. "Very well," he consented with a shallow huff._

_With a start, Cody realized that he was still holding the General's hand and released him, ignoring the pang in his chest. No sense dwelling on such things. Instead, he helped the General to his feet and began carefully removing layers from his person. The robe went easily, but removing it revealed the utter mess beneath. Kenobi's tunics were in ribbons across his back, torn and burnt and blood-soaked and stuck to his back and-- Cody had to look away for a brief moment. His (perhaps excessively) protective instincts were screaming at him to fix his General and then go back down to Zygerria and make the bastards who'd done this pay. Thoughts of razing the galaxy returned with force. But fixing came first. So he looked back up and carefully began unwrapping the General. It was impossible to avoid hurting him when Cody had to pull a strip of fabric out of a deep laceration, or when dried blood peeled away with his clothes, or when even the brush of air against his skin surely felt like the lick of fire. None of it could be avoided, but Cody still felt surges of guilt every time his General recoiled and flinched away at the pain._

_Somehow, through collective effort, they managed to get the General stripped down to his leggings. His back was oozing blood and pus from lashes that seemed to span every possible inch of his skin. Infection was a very real threat, Cody realized absently, and he really could not let the General talk his way out of going into the tank this time. Gently as he dared, Cody turned the General by his shoulder to look him in the face. Pain pulled at the corners of the General's eyes and the line of his mouth, as much of an outward display of discomfort as Kenobi ever gave._

_"It's not looking good, sir, but you'll be okay. You should rinse your back in the shower, not the sonic. Do you want me to help you or have you got it?" Cody knew that he didn't 'got it', the General was swaying on his feet and going slightly green around the gills, but he wanted to give him the chance to come to that conclusion on his own._

_The pain must have been bad because said conclusion came very quickly. "I would appreciate some assistance," Kenobi said after only a moment. His voice was strained. "I imagine this will be rather unpleasant, though, and wouldn't want to force you through it with me."_

_Cody couldn't not roll his eyes, and wouldn't dignify that with a response. He steered the General into the shower, his back to the showerhead, and took a moment to be grateful that Generals had private showers. After piling his armor in the corner and toeing off his boots, he stepped into the stall as well. With one hand braced against the General's shoulder, he reached around him for the faucet handle. Pointedly ignoring how close together they were, he asked, "Ready, sir?"_

_A jerky nod was all the response he got. The General tensed in preparation and Cody switched on the spray and they both held their breath for several seconds. Then the General's face twisted, inexorable agony washing across his features. His body jolted forward in a abortive attempt to escape but Cody was firmly in the way. He inhaled sharply but couldn't hold the air in his lungs. The General fought with himself until, finally, a strangled sound between a shout and a cry finally wrenched its way out of his throat and he sagged forward against Cody's chest, shaking violently as the water washed away dirt and grime and blood. It was all Cody could do to tangle his fingers in his Jedi's hair and hold his head at the crook of his neck, watching over his shoulder as the water at the drain ran murky. Seconds blurred into long minutes as they stood under the spray. The General had a death grip on Cody's shirt. His breathing was ragged and uneven and Cody felt helpless, unable to do anything besides wrestle with his own fear and anger, and wait._

_It seemed to take a lifetime for the water to clear. The General was still trembling in his arms when Cody switched off the spray. He waited another full minute before speaking and when he did, it came out shakier than he'd have liked. "Alright, sir?" It also came out wanting for inflection but really, who could blame him?_

_His General huffed what might have been an attempted laugh, so Cody didn't worry too much about asking stupid questions. "As alright as I'm going to get," Kenobi murmured against his neck, not yet moving away. Cody tried not to savor the feeling, since it could have been lack of ability as much as lack of desire to extricate himself. "You really ought to call me by my name by this point, Cody."_

_Which, considering their current position, was a point. Cody's counterpoint was as simple as chain of command and respect for superior officers, but his General was shaking apart against him and in immense pain and asking so softly. "Okay, Obi-Wan," he said softly, shoving down how right the name felt on his lips. "We need to get you to medical, please don't pass out on me."_

_The General, his Jedi, Obi-Wan, huffed again. A chill was starting to seep through their soaked clothes. Instead of waiting for a response, Cody carefully scooped the man into his arms and carried him out of the 'fresher. He set him down only briefly to drape a fresh robe across his General's shoulders before carrying him the rest of the way to the med-bay, long limbs wrapped around him like a koala._

_Cody took note of every trooper who gave then a second glance in the halls for latrine duty._

_To his credit, Helix didn't so much as double take when Cody walked into his med-bay sopping wet with arms full of unconscious Jedi. The medic lifted the robe from Kenobi's-- Obi-Wan's, shoulders and only paled slightly. Between Helix, Cody, and the shiny on duty, they got the General prepped and into the bacta tank in near-record time. Floating in the thick liquid, Obi-Wan looked somehow smaller than life._

_"He needs to stay in there for at least 32 hours," Helix informed him after running a series of checks on the monitors beside the tank. "But he should make a full physical recovery. We won't know the mental toll until we pull him out."_

_"Kix said about the same for Rex," Cody heard himself say, feeling unbalanced under the weight of his worry. "He was spaced out when I found him."_

_Helix turned and fixed Cody with a look that consisted of equal parts concern and exasperation. "Cody. They'll be okay, vod. We'll help them, but you've got to help yourself, too. You're a mess, dripping all over my floors, but I won't even make you clean it up if you'll go get dry and try to rest. You can come back after."_

_Looking down at his bare feet and the small puddle he was standing in, Cody had to concede that Helix was probably right. He didn't much feel like taking care of himself, couldn't even really feel the chill he knew should be sinking in, but he couldn't help his General or his brother if he fell apart. Who else was any of this for, anyway?_

"Has anyone contacted Ben?"

"Do you really think that's a good idea right now?"

_Cody didn't even have it in him to be surprised when a lightsaber fell seemingly out of the sky and rolled to a stop by his boot. He just sighed, clipped it to his belt, and added a tally to his vambrace. Obi-Wan refused to believe his count of lightsaber losses was accurate but Cody knew, and that was all that mattered for his sanity. Glancing up, he could just make out the shape of his General dangling over the edge of a platform overhead. Kriffing jetii._

_He wasn't sure how Obi-Wan thought he could beat Grievous without his 'saber, but Cody couldn't exactly return the weapon at the moment. It had turned out that Utapau was absolutely chock full of droids. They were lucky that their level had ample cover and, as always, that the clankers didn't bother to use it. Slamming a new clip into his rifle, Cody fired off three shots and three droids dropped._

_"Forty two," he said into the direct comm channel for Ghost Company, wired right in his bucket._

_A string of curses came back through the line. "Sir, please say you're bullshitting me right now," Boil sounded more distressed by losing their game than by the actual battle._

_Waxer, on the other hand, was cackling. "Thirty two!" he exclaimed with overt excitement._

_More cursing from Boil._

_Cody grinned privately and turned his focus back to the clankers. He usually won their little droid-dropping competition, but Boil did get uncomfortably close last time. It was important to put the men in their places every once in a while._

_A cannon boomed behind him, launching a pulse into the middle of the droids. "Sixty plus!" the shiny assigned to heavy artillery counted off, even though it didn't count. Quip, Cody thought his name was. "Give or take a few!"_

_"Cannons don't count, rookie!" Waxer informed him gleefully._

_Cody dropped a handful more droids before a massive lizard... thing came hurtling toward him with the General on its back. "Commander," Obi-Wan called as Cody pulled off his bucket, biting away a smile. "Tell your troops to move to the higher levels!"_

_"Very good, sir. You might be needing this," he smirked and handed the discarded lightsaber back to its owner._

_Obi-Wan chuckled, like losing his weapon was hardly a concern. "Thank you, Cody. Now let's get a move on, we've got a battle to win here!" The General flashed him a smile that most definitely didn't make Cody's face heat up and steered his beast away with a flourish. Cody watched him go, an odd feeling settling in his bones. He wouldn't curse them all with the words, though._

_The feeling ramped up when his long-range comm went off. He identified the number as the Supreme Chancellor's, which couldn't exactly be ignored, even though Cody could hardly imagine why the man would comm him. Shooting a last look up at Obi-Wan, he answered the call._

_A holo of a hooded figure flickered to life. Cody started to say something, but the figure interrupted before he had the chance. "Commander Cody, the time has come. Execute Order 66."_

_**Order 66: The Jedi Order stands accused of treason against the Galactic Republic. All Jedi are subject to summary execution by the Grand Army of the Republic, effective immediately and without exception**. _

_And Cody-- Cody couldn't even begin to process that. A vicious headache was brewing behind his eyes._

_"It will be done, My Lord," he said without giving his mouth permission to move._

_He look back up at Obi-Wan, caught a glimpse flash of green and copper, then an all-consuming pain wrapped around his skull and_ squeezed _. His mind was stuttering as he tried to comprehend his orders - **good soldiers follow orders** \- stuttered, stuttered, stopped. Whited out. _

_**Good soldiers follow orders** , his mind reminded him over the shrill ringing in his ears. And he was a good soldier. _

_CC-2224 turned to ~~Quip~~ CT-9805 and gestured over his shoulder at the ~~General~~ traitor skirting the edge of the canyon. "Blast him!" he shouted over the din of blasterfire. _

_The cannon blast struck the cliff face below the traitor's beast, knocking them from their path. CC-2224 ran a quick calculation as the traitor fell through the air, limp as a rag doll, and came to the conclusion that no one could possibly survive that drop. From that height, hitting the water would be like hitting concrete. Still, he watched until the traitor collided with the surface and disappeared into the darkness below._

_No one could survive that fall._

_He didn't need to find a body because no one could survive that fall._

_It would really just be wasting time, and there were other traitorous Jedi to track down._

_CC-2224 had followed his orders, this traitor was eliminated. They needed to report back to the Emperor and move on to the next._

* * *

Cody's mind was a wreck. Guilt and shame and anger seared through him. 

He'd killed his General.

He'd been an attack dog for the Empire.

He'd coordinated attacks on the Rebellion. 

He'd kneeled for Vader. For the Sith.

He'd forgotten his _vod'e_.

"Woah, woah, easy now," a familiar voice was saying. "If you're ready to wake up, that would be great, but relax a bit or the medic will have a fit. You never did tell me whether you had a name but people here are calling you Cody. So. If you wake up then you can confirm or deny that, I guess. In the meantime, I'll assume it's true. So, Cody, you've got some worried brothers on this base. Like, they're making everyone anxious with the pacing and the grumbling and the compulsively cleaning weapons. Whoever you're all cloned from had a gnarly resting bitch face, it's pretty impressive. I thought maybe you were just angsty but they pull that same face you do."

They were rambling and Cody wished they would stop, so he cracked an eye open. The first thing he registered was the harsh white light that all med-bays seemed to share. The second thing was the lack of low-grade migraine that had been so constantly present since Utapau that he'd forgotten what it was like to not have one. The third thing was Kat sitting beside his bed, eyes about to bulge out of her head. He opened his mouth to ask her to please stop babbling and found that his mouth and throat were too dry to speak. 

Kat helped him sit up, slowly, and once he made it clear that his hands were working, gave him a cup of water. It was like a balm on his throat. Cody coughed harshly. "You talk a lot."

It would have been entertaining to watch Kat sputter indignantly if he wasn't so busy drowning in newfound guilt. "Well! If that's what you needed to wake up, so be it. How are you feeling?" 

Great question. "Like I had a headache for over a year and suddenly don't anymore. Like I've been out cold for a long time. Confused. What the kriff happened?" 

"I don't know if I've ever heard you say that many words all at once!" Kat grinned, clearly thrilled. "It's also a long story. Hold on and I'll get some folks who can probably explain better than I can." 

Cody watched her scramble out the door and wondered why he wasn't in a prison cell after everything he'd done. 

Then Rex burst through the door and all at once, he was on his feet and wrapped in his brother's arms. Shock melted quickly into grief as Cody buried his face in Rex's shoulder. His baby brother's shoulder. Cody couldn't breathe around the sudden storm of emotions in his heart, filling his lungs, rattling his core. And he shattered. Sobs tore from his chest, left his breathing ragged, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't believe. He got _out_. After months upon months living with his consciousness crammed into a restrictive box, his will squeezed out of him, the threat of torture or death by his own commanders looming over his head, he was out. He was free. Rex just squeezed him tighter as he cried out a lifetime's worth of suffering, whispering soft Mando'a against his ear. Like they were cadets again, holding each other through the raging storms on Kamino. 

There were fingers threading through his hair, he realized after some time, once the storm had blown over and only aftershocks remained. They slowly brought him back to himself. Rex was still murmuring meaningless assurances into his neck, rocking him gently.

" _Ni ceta. Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman_ ," Cody finally choked out, his voice cracking. 

Rex just shook his head. _"Nayc, ori'vod._ You've got _cin vetin_ after that, most of us went through it too. We understand."

Cody sucked in a breath, trying to steady himself. With a grand effort, he untangled himself from Rex and held his brother at arms length by his shoulders. "Rex, what happened?"

"It's a bit of a story, and you should be resting, so go lay back down. Helix is coming, you both need to hear this." 

Helix. Cody had forgotten his brother. Had been working alongside him and never even remembered his name.

And he must have said that out loud, because Rex turned a glare on him. "He forgot who you were, too," he said, as if that was all that mattered.

Helix, Bly, and Fox arrived shortly, the medic seeming more subdued than normal. Cody couldn't exact blame him. He didn't know what constituted normal anymore. 

Once everyone settled, unnerving quietly, Rex heaved a sigh a raked a hand across his face. He was obviously preparing to rip off the proverbial bacta patch, which did precious little to set Cody's mind at ease. "Alright. Remember when Fives had that meltdown about computer chips in our heads? Turns out he was right. The short of it is that Sidious had a control chip implanted in all of the clones, programmed in a series of commands that we wouldn't be able to disobey. They inhibit brain activity, limit the mind. 66 was one such order. Just about every clone in the galaxy turned on their Jedi. There were a few of us who were able to resist, to varying extents. Bly had his blaster set to stun. Wolffe fought it off long enough for General Koon to escape. Cody didn't verify his kill. And so on. Some of us were able to shake the chip's control enough to get in contact with the Rebellion, then we got the chips out. We've been paying it forward ever since."

"We were on General Secura's old ship," Bly spoke up. "I was seeing reminders of the past every time I turned around, which undermined my memory wipe a bit. In all honesty, I think Foxy just out-stubborned the thing." Fox scowled at that and was completely ignored. "You were both getting close. If we'd been in contact before that last mission then you probably would've started pulling out of it sooner." 

Cody's mind was reeling. He thought about the vague sense of familiarity that had been nagging at him since they all met in those abandoned rooms, those headaches and the awful awareness that even thinking about acting outside of his directive made them worse. It made more sense than he'd like to admit. His guilt returned with a vengeance; he'd disregarded Fives' ravings entirely, written him off, even questioned his stability. If he'd just listened--

"Commander Tano and a handful of others are with the Rebellion," Rex interrupted his thoughts with a strange expression. 

"Skywalker?" Cody had to ask. He'd killed his General but if Skywalker made it out then maybe-- but Rex's face answered his question. 

"General Skywalker turned, Fell, whatever they call it. He went Darkside. Palpatine got in his head somehow and," Rex cut himself off, visibly anguished. Cody wanted to hug him again but he needed to know this first. If Skywalker went Sith, with all his power... "And apprenticed him," Rex managed after wrestling with his own grief, guilt, regret. "Vader. He's Vader now. There was nothing anyone could've done by the end. Maybe when he was a cadet, but it's been too late for a long time." 

The weight of Rex's loss fell heavily on them all. "General Skywalker's dead, then," Cody said after a painful stretch of silence. _"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la._ He was a good man in terrible circumstances, and he was your General. Vader is Vader. That's it."

Rex nodded once, sharply. " _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_. So," he cleared his throat. "We've been pulling brothers out from under the Empire's nose a few at a time. I always hoped we'd find you," his voice broke despite its soft volume. Cody's heart felt like it was breaking for the umpteenth time since they'd stolen him away, because he couldn't fix this. He'd been part of the problem, could have killed them. They could have killed him and never known. The injustice, unfairness, of it all sent a chill down his spine. "You don't have to join the Rebellion, you can do whatever you want, but the Empire slates deserters for execution so you should keep your heads down in whatever you chose."

As if Cody could willingly leave his _vod'e_ after everything that had happened. He thought about stormy nights on Kamino and holding Rex in his arms, and he knew that he was no more able to push his brother away now than he had been all those years age. Glancing at Helix and revealed the same sentiment reflected in his eyes. "I think we'll stay with you, at least for now."

"Alright, then. We're still in recovery from that attack but you need to take at least another day to get your bearings. You took a lot longer to wake than Helix, for whatever reason. I want to keep an eye on you," Rex's words were firm but his tone was almost pleading, and Cody just didn't have the heart to fight him on it. 

So he didn't. Instead he leaned back into his pillows and watched his brothers talk. He could almost imagine that they'd rewound the clock, that Kenobi and Skywalker would traipse in at any moment to hover unnecessarily over the wounded. Except he'd killed his General, and Rex's General had gone Dark, and the Republic they fought for no longer existed. No one made it through unscathed. Cody recognized his crushing grief in Rex and Helix, his burning anger in Fox, and his lovesick heartache in Bly. For all that Bly had blushed and pshawed when they'd teased him about his obvious feelings for General Secura, Cody knew that he didn't really mind it, because he knew that Bly had been happy with her. All the way to the end.

Cody had watched Bly watch General Secura and wondered, on occasion, if anyone ever watched him watch his General. What they might have seen, if they did. They'd never been like Bly and General Secura, but once, Obi-Wan asked him what he wanted to do after the war. And Cody hadn't had any answer beyond 'stay by your side'. Which made Obi-Wan's face go horribly soft, like there was a chance he felt the same way. So maybe they might have been like Bly and General Secura, someday, if Cody hadn't _kriffing killed him_.

"Cody," Rex was saying, closer than he had been a moment before. Cody blinked and found his vision blurred through tears caught in his lashes. He groaned at his own weakness, pressing his knuckles against his eyes. "It's not weakness to struggle with this, brother. We're all here for you." Then Rex took it a step further, crawled onto the too-small bed beside Cody, and wrapped himself around his brother. 

Cody couldn't remember the last time he felt truly safe but there, with Rex all around him, he knew that he was. Even through the suffocating burden of his guilt and mourning, he could trust Rex to keep him safe.

* * *

Apparently, Cody had needed the rest. Helix merrily informed him that he slept for twenty straight hours. He didn't think he'd ever slept that long in his life, not without the influence of some drug cocktail. As much as he loathed to admit it, Cody did feel better, more alive. Almost like he could function on a normal level. It must have shown, because Kat agreed to give him a tour of the base and it only took a few minutes of nagging. 

He was surprised to learn that the base had all of five levels, four below ground and one above. Kat showed him to the locations she claimed were the only ones that mattered: the showers and mess hall on B-1, the command center on B-2, the entire level of barracks on B-3, and the shooting range on B-4. Everything above ground was considered expendable due to the greater risk of infiltration and as such, was not important. Or so Kat said.

"You can sleep wherever you want, obviously we have more beds than bodies at the moment," Kat was saying as they filled their midday meal trays in the mess. Cody didn't mention how excited he was to eat something that wasn't a ration bar, but the anticipation was enough to split his focus. Watching Kat pile food onto her tray, he gathered that she probably shared the sentiment. "Some reinforcements are coming in over the next few days so go ahead and stake your claim; not all of the bunks are gonna fill up but more of them will, for sure. We caught wind of an Imperial plan to hit Dantooine, not sure why yet but we have a base there that we can't afford to lose, so we're bringing in the cavalry. Honestly, I don't expect much of a fight, we may just be there as reassurance but that's important, too. Fulcrum and Ben are apparently both coming. I think it's kind of risky, in case Vader actually does show up, but you know how Force users are when they set their minds to something." 

Of course he did. Cody mulled that over as he munched on some kind of crispy bread (not a ration bar!). He hadn't heard anything about an attack on Dantooine, but he also wasn't typically stationed in the planet's vicinity. "Is Fulcrum Ahsoka Tano?" he asked, shifting the topic slightly. The question had been growing in his mind as he tried to recall what he'd heard of Fulcrum and cross-reference it with the surviving _jetii_ that he knew of. It wasn't like there were many of them left, and Rex _had_ mentioned Commander Tano.

Kat blinked at him. "I mean, that's not public knowledge or anything but yeah. How...?" 

"I knew her, during the war," he offered, still wary of talking about the past, but there were no Imperial officers around to recondition him for sharing stories. "She was a good soldier. Do you know know how many other Jedi are left?"

"Hn. Technically, there aren't any Jedi left. Their Order is no more. But Force users? There's Fulcrum and Ben, obviously. Plo Koon is with the Rebellion, too. Yoda allegedly survived the massacre but no one knows where he is. I've heard mention of someone called Quinlan Vos." Kat fiddled with the metal bar through her brow as she thought on it. That was more than Cody had allowed himself to hope for, but still so few remained of the thousands there had once been. So many had been killed by their own troops. Shot in the back. Kat sighed and continued, pulling Cody's thoughts out of that morbid spiral, "That's all I know of on our side, but the lines of Light and Dark for Force users have gotten real fuzzy since the Republic fell. Then, as far as I know, the bona fide, fully fledged Darksiders are Sidious, Vader, Maul, and Ventress. The latter two haven't been seen in months, but Sidious and Vader are a force to be reckoned with on their own. As you know."

Cody nodded absently. A small handful on either side, then. "Tano and Ben, what are they like?" 

Kat took a moment to respond, like she was trying to decide how much to divulge. "Tano is young, but she obviously grew up fast. You said you knew her before so I'm sorry to say that even since I've known her, she's changed a lot. This galaxy is unforgiving and she had to adapt or die like the rest of us. She pushes her troops hard and herself harder."

"That tracks," Cody admitted, and he couldn't quite keep the regret from his voice. Commander Tano had been entirely too young to be thrown onto the frontlines of their war and it had robbed her of her childhood, her innocence. "She's always been tough. A survivor." 

With a soft hum, Kat nodded her confirmation. "Then Ben is an odd one, a bit unpredictable. A bit, shall we say, passively suicidal. He went up against Vader _and_ Sidious back when the Empire was taking over. That has to change a person, make you a little crazy. Afterwards, he bolted for Tatooine and no one could get ahold of him for months. He comes if we ask him to these days but he never stays for long. I don't know what keeps him on that dustball of a planet but it sure seems important. Both he and Fulcrum have an obvious, glaring, Vader-shaped blind spot, but they're the only ones who can keep up with him in a fight. It's not ideal but it's what we have." 

"It does sound risky, bringing them both if that's the case." 

"It is. We weren't going to bring Ben but he wouldn't hear that, said he'd make his way there with or without us." She rolled her eyes, looking caught between irritation and admiration. "So they're both meeting us on Dantooine." 

Cody thought again that the Rebellion seemed rather disorganized, especially if these Force users could just steamroll over their plans. He knew how stubborn Tano had once been, even as a teenager, but he'd also been able to keep her in line. Mostly. "How formally structured is the Rebellion, exactly?" 

"Err," Kat grimaced, hesitated. Apparently that hit home, which was unfortunate. "We're struggling with overarching structure. There are outposts that operate locally, like this one and the one on Dantooine and a few others, but when we try to help out each others' bases, well. It gets messy. Some of us are base-hoppers, a lot of clones are, actually. We try to coordinate everyone, with mixed results, but someone has to try. We can't just stumble around in the dark and expect to make a stand against the literal Empire." 

"You all need a General," Cody muttered and hoped it didn't come out too bitter. General Kenobi would have had a kit over this lack of management.

Kat just snorted and rose from her seat, gesturing for Cody to follow her. "Unfortunately, I'm about as close to a General as we've got. That stint with the Imps was a special case. Usually I'm planet hopping and trying to keep this operation afloat." 

That was something, at least. Cody hardly begrudged her position. He'd never tried to raise and train an army from behind, the Republic was always the stronger side in his war. As grassroots as the Rebellion may have been, he knew that the Empire did consider them a threat. They were changing public consciousness, otherwise the Imperial propaganda campaigns would never have been needed. For obvious reasons, the common folk could relate more closely to the farmer-turned-militiaman than the born and/or bred Imperial soldier. The galaxy could be subjugated by one man who seized power and appealed to the elite, but subjugation had to give way, one way or another. It could give to stabilized, centralized governmental control through sustained military enforcement, or it could collapse under the weight of the huddled masses who would inevitably band together, collectivize, and revolt against the authoritarian regime. In this instance, despite all signs pointing to Imperial victory, Cody's (nonexistent) credits were on the huddled masses. The Rebellion had something that the Seppies always lacked: heart.

There was a joke in there somewhere about clankers and hearts, but that was beside the point.

As he followed Kat down to the barracks and chose the bunk across from Rex's, something Cody had thought long dead flickered in his chest. It felt dangerously close to hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a draft for this chapter and then I disregarded it and wrote this instead for the *~vibes~* so 1) I'm sorry and 2) you're welcome. was this chap boring? too overtly explanatory? poorly paced/balanced? cathartic? indulgent? hell if I know I'm straight up free writing and things just happen :)
> 
> I'm living vicariously through Cody. I also would like to be held and rebel against the government. sadly, Cody is also traumatized, which will continue to unfold as this story progresses. I don't want you to think I'm breezing over that or anything.
> 
> I'm also currently reading Che Guevara's _Guerilla Warfare _, can you tell yet? mans said the guerilla band, the combative vanguard of the people, draws power from the mass of the people themselves and should not be considered inferior to the professional army against which it fights simply because it has inferior firepower, and you know what? he was right.__
> 
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> _once again, this fic is unbeta'd so kindly lmk about any grammatical issues that I may have missed during the editing process._  
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> _thoughts? comments? concerns?_  
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> Mando'a:  
>  _jetii_ \- (n) Jedi; plural: _jetiise_  
>  _vod_ \- (n) brother, sibling (Mando'a is gender neutral); plural: _vod'e_  
>  _haar'chak -_ (expletive) dammit  
>  _'ika_ \- diminutive suffix, also added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form  
>  _ka'ra_ \- (n) stars; ancient Mandalorian myth; ruling council of fallen kings  
>  _ori_ \- (adj.) big, very, extreme; may be used as a prefix (e.g., _ori'vod_ is big brother/sister/sibling)  
>  _di'kutla_ \- (adj.) stupid; more harshly, useless, worthless  
>  _di'kut_ \- (n) lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on; idiot; more harshly, useless, waste of space  
>  _ni ceta_ \- (phrase) lit. I kneel; groveling apology (rare)  
>  _burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman_ \- (phrase) lit. a friend during danger is a true friend  
>  _nayc_ \- no, negative answer  
>  _cin vetin_ \- (phrase) lit. white field, virgin snow; fresh start, clean slate; term indicating the erasing of a person's past when they become Mandalorian, and that they will only be judged by what they do from that point onwards; like the "first turn of the screw cancels all debts" for sailors [I use this a bit loosely, in a more philosophical way than literally joining the Mandalorians]  
>  _nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_ \- (phrase) lit. not gone, merely marching far away; tribute to dead comrades


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which everyone needs a nap. or a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wew y'all this fought me tooth and nail from start to finish. I've been glaring at it for days and can't figure out how to fix it so I'm flinging it into the void. something tells me this fic is going to be longer than I expected smh

Dantooine at dawn was breathtaking. Cody couldn't help but stare at the lush greenery and tall trees under the last light of the moons. He'd never been to Naboo, but this was everything he had ever dared to imagine of its natural spaces. After so much time on a Venator-class, broken up only by brief dirtside attacks, it was a beautiful thing to turn off his helmet's filters and climate control and smell life in the air. 

"It's really something, isn't it?" Fox sounded almost wistful as he fell into step beside Cody. Rather uncharacteristically, he had fully removed his bucket and carried it under his arm to get the full effect of the light breeze and mild temperature. "I've only been here once or twice but it's always... something else." 

Cody smiled at that. The clearest sign that Fox was genuinely feeling Emotions was any loss for words. That eloquence he instinctively drew up after of years working around Senators was a defense mechanism at its core. "It feels more alive, somehow." 

"Well, Coruscant feels alive, too. That whole world practically buzzes with sentients, always on the move, somewhere to be, someone to see. I'm no _jetii_ but even without their Force _osik_ , I got anxious living there. This is life, but it's also peace. Nowhere on Coruscant is this still." Cody steadfastly did not call his brother out for waxing poetic. "I don't know any other world that feels this calm." 

Calm was a good word for it, poetic or not. Cody hadn't felt such permeating calm or peace or tranquility in years, maybe even in his life. None of the _vod'e_ had experienced much outside of war; a natural consequence of such an existence was simmering anxiety, worry about ambush or betrayal that roiled beneath the surface at all times. There were, however, places and people whose very existence seemed to loosen that knot of anxiety. For Cody, Rex's presence had always been like a balm for his hurts and fears. Despite their nagging concern about rules and regs, his General projected peace that soothed every trooper in the 212th. This world appeared to be a place that exuded a similar energy. Cody's brothers practically radiated awed contentment as they marched through the brush.

Blinking out of his own melodrama, Cody reached up and ruffled Fox's hair, ignoring the scowl it got him, then picked up his pace to match Kat. 

"You all get so mushy when we come here," she said before he had the chance to speak. "Like, I get it, kind of, but it's also just a planet."

Which was technically accurate, if overly simplistic. "Where are you from?" 

"I grew up on a farm on Corellia. Why?" 

"And Corellia is like this, right? Green, alive? The countryside at least," Cody tentatively edged toward his best guess. "We were raised in a lab on Kamino, the whole planet's an ocean. When the Jedi deployed us, it was the first time we saw the galaxy beyond those labs and it had a similar effect. And after so long with the Empire, fresh air was hard to come by."

Kat hummed thoughtfully, but Cody felt strongly that he wasn't explaining it right. He didn't know how to go about correcting that, though. "The first time I went into an industrial center, it absolutely blew my mind," she said. "It was like nothing I'd ever seen. And my first time on a ship? In space? Pfff, I just about had a bantha. Novelty is a funny thing, but if this place clicks for you and you decide to stay with the Rebellion, I can see about having you stationed here."

The thought of bringing another war to destroy the life around him made Cody cringe inwardly. Kat side-eyed him when he didn't respond one way or the other, but didn't push the subject. The Rebel base was within their sightline, anyway, only partially obscured by the forest around them.

There was a small group loitering outside the compound, presumably awaiting their arrival but possibly just taking in the atmosphere. If it was the latter, Cody couldn't honestly blame them. He would probably rather be out in this breeze than stuck in a bunker as well. At Kat's sharp whistle, a dozen of them snapped to attention. Cody recognized the instinct and put together quickly that most of this group were clones. "Only the newest ones still do that, it's the quickest way to tell," Kat explained. "Looks like Ben raided an Imp base recently."

Cody shook his head, somewhat incredulous. What kind of operative went and did things of that scale without command knowing about it? "Does he do that often? Run off alone?" 

"No," she was quick to assure him, but her expression was pinched. "Only when that passive suicidality I told you about is more active than usual." 

As they drew near, Cody swept his eyes over the man he assumed was Ben. Rather than jerking to attention like some of the clones, he had fallen into a loose parade rest. He didn't exactly look like much, Cody thought, maybe a little bit cynical after what he'd heard of the man's habits. A dark green cloth covered the lower half of his face and wrapped loosely around his head, hiding his hair. He was dressed casually in a dark tunic, ragged trousers, and a brown leather jacket, all of which were rather filthy and obviously worn out. No armor to be seen, which fit with Kat's suicidality theory. Between the cloth and a pair of goggles, his entire expression was obscured. He certainly looked out of place among the armored troops. 

"Ben, you look like a street rat," Kat greeted him with a grimace, confirming Cody's identification. Ben gave a lazy salute in return. "I know you have armor, _nice_ armor even. Where is it?" 

Ben looked between them before rolling his shoulders in a careless shrug. "Back home. Armor impedes mobility and I'm stiff enough in my advanced age." Cody almost physically jolted at the man's accent. It was distinctly Core. Maybe even Coruscanti. Familiar. Painful. 

"Fuck's sake," Kat sighed, but she didn't argue. "That's a weak excuse but alright. Fine. I see you've got newbies, congrats on not dying by yourself surrounded by Imps because you didn't bring backup. We have two. This is Cody," she gestured at Cody so he gave a quick two-fingered salute, then she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Helix is somewhere back there. A commander and a medic. Who've you got?" She asked even as she started walking through the assembled Rebels.

Ben didn't so much as twitch to follow her. His goggles were fixed on Cody's visor. The eerie familiarity of his voice echoed in Cody's mind. When Ben finally spoke, his voice was strained. "Did you say that this is Commander Cody?" 

Kat turned around and frowned, not having noticed the hold up. "Yes?" Cody was about as Force-sensitive as a rock, but even he could feel _something_ building in the air around them.

"And you removed his chip?" Ben asked in that same familiar voice, filled with that same familiar tension, except Cody was surely grasping at straws. He had killed his General. 

"Obviously," Kat snapped as if her intelligence had been insulted. Maybe it had, Cody had no idea. He couldn't quite think straight.

Ben took a stilted step toward him. Familiar voice, familiar tone, familiar head tilt, but Cody had killed his General. Because he was watching for it, always knew to watch for it, Cody could see that Ben's gloved hands were trembling as they reached for his goggles. 

Cody couldn't breathe. 

Because the goggles were pulled away and Ben's eyes were grey and full of agonizing emotion. Expressive. They'd always been expressive. 

But Cody had _killed_ his General. Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead. This was just a cruel trick of fate, just a stranger with the same mannerisms. The same eyes. 

When Ben pulled the wrap off his head and away from his face, Cody followed the movement, transfixed by the green fabric crushed in a leather-wrapped fist. He dragged his gaze up slowly because he had to see, had to break this illusion because his General was dead. 

And then Cody was looking into the very alive, very distressed face of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Cody couldn't breathe, but it was okay because Obi-Wan could. His General was _alive_.

"Cody?" he asked, begged, as if he might spook Cody. As if he had killed his Commander instead of the other way around. "Cody, please," his voice broke on the last syllable. Obi-Wan took three long steps forward, stopping when they were close enough to touch. A hand reached for him, froze, and retreated back.

Cody still couldn't breathe, so he yanked his bucket off like its air filter was the culprit and sharply sucked in a gulp of air. _He didn't kill his General_.

Obi-Wan looked like he couldn't quite breathe either. 

It was like a dam broke all at once when Obi-Wan, his Jedi, his General pulled Cody into his arms. As he scrambled for purchase at the back of Obi-Wan's jacket, Cody thought he was probably breaking some personal record for the number of times he'd broken down in someone's arms. Obi-Wan smelled like pine and leather and spiced tea and something that had always been unique to him. 

"Gods, Cody, I've been looking for you for so long," Obi-Wan was saying when Cody finally, forcefully brought his focus to bear on the moment. The cadence of his General's voice always had an uncanny ability to calm Cody's nerves, and even after so much time, he felt himself relaxing by increments, melting against his ghost. "Every time I-- I was afraid that you--" 

"You were dead," Cody cut him off when he found his voice, strangled as it was. His face was still buried in his General's neck. He had to be able to feel him breathe, had to feel his pulse thumping in his throat. "I gave the order-- I watched-- you couldn't have survived that fall!" 

His General, his Jedi-- except, he was neither of those things anymore-- Obi-Wan heaved a shaking breath and tensed in Cody's arms. "And you didn't check," he whispered, his words barely intelligible through the thick emotion in his voice. "You let me escape."

Cody didn't have the heart to say that it hadn't been as intentional as it sounded. He hadn't meant to let him escape. If he could go back to that day, he would stick his blaster in his mouth and pull the trigger before giving that order at all. 

"I can't believe you're alive," Cody managed through his own suffocating emotions. With all of the strength left in his body, he pried himself out of Obi-Wan's arms to look over him. Gloved hands clung to his shoulders, shifted to the back of his neck as Cody searched impossibly bright grey eyes for any sign that he was hallucinating. And he couldn't find it. His mind rebelled against the very thought that this could actually be real. 

"I'm alive," Obi-Wan confirmed. There were unshed tears in his eyes, and Cody realized that he was crying again when Obi-Wan wiped a streak of wetness from his cheek. He couldn't help but lean into the touch. "I can't believe you're here." 

"I'm here," Cody breathed, shutting his eyes and letting Obi-Wan press their foreheads together in a gentle _kov'nyn_. 

"Cody," Kat said, somewhere behind Obi-Wan, and effectively reminded Cody that they were still in public. He snapped back to this inexplicable reality with a start and took a halting step backwards, away from his not-dead not-General. "Did Bly not-- did no one kriffing _tell you_ he was-- who Ben is?" 

With a monumental effort, Cody pried his gaze away from Obi-Wan's not-dead face and fixed it on Kat. She looked like she was ready to blow a gasket. Which, now that he thought about it, was a relatable sentiment. "No, no one said a word. Everyone knew this except me?" 

Obi-Wan's expression shifted so dramatically from relief-gratitude-awe to exasperation-anger-indignation that Cody almost laughed. Almost. He was still entirely too poleaxed to be amused. 

"Fuck's sake," Kat repeated herself and raked both hands through her hair, tugging at the back of her scalp. "This is such a mess. What is wrong with everybody. Gods. This, this right here, is why we can't have nice things!" If looks could kill, Cody thought several of their troops would have dropped at the glare she sent them. "Someone kriffing find Helix and-- you know what, scratch that. Everyone get inside the kriffing base." With that, Kat threw her hands up, turned on her heel, and stormed towards the doors, still griping loudly at no one and everyone. "We need a seminar or something on communication. Gonna have a nice little dramatic reunion then I'm calling up the rest of the command structure and we're coming up with a new debriefing system. Gods, the paperwork will be a kriffing nightmare..." She didn't stop almost-shouting even as she slammed the base doors open and disappeared inside. 

Cody thought she probably needed a nap, or a raise, or a stiff drink, or something, because she wasn't wrong. This was ridiculous. And anyone about to bring more paperwork down on themselves deserved those things and more. When he looked back to Obi-Wan, the man was pinching the bridge of his nose in such a familiar display of agitation that Cody could do little more than blink at the sight. 

Obi-Wan found his voice first. "We'd best get in there. She's rather unforgiving when people don't listen to her." He grimaced at whatever was rolling through his mind and Cody watched the movement pull the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes; they were deeper than he remembered. 

"That's true." Cody turned to see Bly approaching them with shame written all over his face. Good. "But she also doesn't like you, sir." 

"Don't be ridiculous, she likes me fine," Obi-Wan said in a way that meant he was lying and knew that everyone knew it. His tone was light, but he was glaring at Bly. "So, did you just forget to inform us? Or was this supposed to be funny?" 

Bly blanched, curled in on himself almost imperceptibly. "I didn't _forget_. There was a lot going on! I thought that this way you could, I don't know, have your moment. A reunion or something. Cody, I swear I wasn't trying to hurt you. Either of you. I'm sorry, General." He looked so thoroughly guilty that Cody almost felt like _he_ needed to apologize. Almost. Bly seemed to forget that not everyone shared his inclination toward the hopelessly dramatic romance of holonovelas.

It looked like Obi-Wan was still as susceptible to puppy eyes as he had been during the war because his glare went hopelessly soft around the edges. With a long-suffering sigh, he clapped a hand on Bly's shoulder and shook his head. "I know you meant well, dear, but please don't keep information like this to yourself next time. There's a time and place for dramatics and coordination of the Rebellion isn't it. And for the millionth time, I'm not a General anymore." 

"Yessir," Bly grumbled and ducked his head. Coy bastard. Obi-Wan just rolled his eyes. 

"Alright, cut it with the eyes for Force's sake, Bly," the ex-General pleaded. "I've gone soft. How did this happen. Absolutely unacceptable." 

Cody swallowed a scoff, because his General always had a soft spot a klick wide for his troops, and glanced around them. Only a few of the assembled Rebels were still loitering at the door, possibly waiting for them to get a move on. "Should we go inside?" he asked, interrupting Bly's denial of any sort of emotional manipulation. "I've managed to stay on Kat's good side so far and it sounds like it's worth the effort to stay there." 

Obi-Wan followed his gaze and grimaced again, cursing under his breath. "Yes, yes, you're right. She'll have my _shebs_ if I hold up this meeting." 

Bly snorted at that, "Again." 

"Yes, again. We could always pin it on you, though," Obi-Wan said with a toothy smile, then made for the door. Cody pulled his helmet back on and fell into step beside him as easily as breathing. 

"She would never believe you, sir," Bly protested with a huff. It seemed that Obi-Wan had no retort to that and Cody desperately wondered what he'd done to get on Kat's shit list.

" _Kenobi!_ " Kat snapped from inside a conference room as they passed, and it seemed he might get an answer to that question sooner than anticipated. Obi-Wan froze in his tracks, shoulders tensed almost up to his ears. "Get it here! Bring them with you, I don't care, come on." 

There was only a handful of people at the desk in the room, presumably the command officers of the base. Kat, Fox, and Wolffe were on one end, then a gaunt, grey-haired man and three armored troops opposite them. Cody allowed himself a moment to let relief at seeing Wolffe alive wash over him. He wondered how many of his brothers had gotten away from the Empire, how many had taken up arms with the Rebellion.

"Fulcrum is late," the gaunt man complained as soon as the door slid shut. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by his company and even more so by Obi-Wan, if the scowl he leveled on him was any indication. 

Of course, Obi-Wan was the picture of serenity despite his admittedly bedraggled appearance. "She will be here. Has she ever gone back on her word?" 

The gaunt man's scowl deepened somehow and Cody decided that he didn't particularly like him. As if reading his mind, Obi-Wan shifted his focus and typed out a message on his datapad before tilting it just enough that Cody could read it. 

'Elon Seaburn. ex-Sep. doesn't like Jedi, thinks Soka and I are still Jedi, doesn't really know what a Jedi is. doesn't like clones. thinks we should try to manufacture droids even though Rebellion is basically broke. in charge of this base for some reason. don't know why.'

Cody smirked in the privacy of his bucket and signed an affirmative.

'wasn't happy that I brought so many vode with me. thinks I'm a liability. they usually keep us separated'

"Ben, please, I'm begging you," Kat was saying loudly, snapping their collective attention back to the conversation. "Give me some input, here." 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Could you repeat the plan?"

Cody grimaced behind his visor. 

Kat's eye fluttered. "Imps are coming to stock up at a weapons depot, but they won't be here for another three rotations. I was telling Seaburn that the rewards outweigh the risks of raiding the depot before the Imps show up. We would be able to steal enough guns and munitions to hold our own in a fight against a landing crew. And since Fulcrum is coming, we'll have both of you on deck in case Tall, Dark, and Scary shows up. Best case scenario, we get guns, ammo, and maybe even a ship, we take out some Imps, and we compromise a supply line, all without revealing the base." 

It was a slightly risky plan, especially if they were wrong about the size of the crew coming to pick up these weapons, but Cody could see her rationale. Seaburn was still scowling. 

"And what is your objection, Commander Seaburn?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice as neutral as possible. 

"My _objection_ is that direct conflict is too great a cost for the reward of disrupting a single supplier of weapons!" Seaburn spat. "I will not risk the lives of my troops on such an errand. If you want to risk send a bunch of clones, ex-Imperial clones no less, marching to their deaths, you'll receive no objection from me, but natural born soldiers should not be commanded with such disregard for their wellbeing." Cody didn't need to look at Obi-Wan to know that his expression had gone thunderous. If Seaburn noticed the temperature drop in the room, he certainly didn't let it deter him. "This is why I propose that we invest in some battle droids, to handle these violent confrontations while our men and, err, women, command from a safe distance. Surely it would be worth the cost to supplement the clones we already have, and immeasurably safer than raiding Imperial bases and ships." 

The silence that followed was tense. Cody held himself stiffly and with a glance around the table, saw that his brothers were doing the same. He scanned Kat's face and could see apologetic regret etched into her features for bringing them all into this situation, but Cody thought he understood. Seaburn wouldn't get away with talking that way in front of his _dar'al'verde_.

"You seem to misunderstand something, Commander Seaburn," Obi-Wan eventually said, his tone too even and his posture too stiff. "Several things, in fact. First, no one in this room _enjoys_ leading their troops into danger. In war, one must take risks; cowardice will not progress our movement. If you cannot reconcile this fact, I suggest you step down from your position and allow someone who will take our efforts seriously to lead. Second, you don't seem to understand your position on Dantooine. You are here because the natives are agreeable to our cause and because they trust us to take necessary action against the Empire. This base is a security measure for us _and_ for them. Part of defending them, of keeping their goodwill, is removing the Empire and its suppliers from their backyard. Again, if you are not agreeable to these circumstances and responsibilities, I'm sure someone else would be happy to take over your position. Finally, Commander Seaburn, you seem to be under the misguided impression that your nat-born troops are in some way superior to the clones. I will only warn you once. If I find out, no, if I even _suspect_ that you are treating the clones as _flesh-droids_ , you will be immediately removed from command and face a tribunal for crimes against sentients. Do you understand?" 

Seaburn scoffed and looked around the table, as if he would find support from anyone there. When he didn't find it, the scoff became a scowl. "I am simply trying to protect lives, Agent Kenobi," he snapped in lieu of answering the question.

"No, you're trying to protect your own life. You're suggesting arbitrarily prioritizing and assigning value to the lives of some troops over others." Seaburn opened his mouth to argue, which led Cody to inwardly question his self-preservation instinct, but snapped it shut when the datapad in Obi-Wan's hands suddenly shattered and the pieces fell to the floor. It was only years of wartime experience that kept Cody from jumping fully out of his armor at the abrupt noise. His _dar'al'verde_ didn't even look down, just folded his arms across his chest. "We all want to preserve lives to the greatest extent possible, but the Rebellion will not do so in a discriminatory manner. Do you understand me, Commander Seaburn?"

"You have no authority over me, Jedi," Seaburn hissed after a moment of stunned sputtering. 

Obi-Wan's smile bordered on feral when Cody risked a glance to his side. "Don't I? Katherine, dearest, would you be opposed to stripping Commander Seaburn of his title and all contingent authority? I would be happy to put forward a formal allegation of discriminatory practices and conduct the subsequent investigation." 

"How fortunate that I do have that authority and witnesses to Commander Seaburn's self-incriminating comments," Kat exclaimed with a broad grin. "Elon Seaburn, you are hereby relieved of your position as Commander. Your status within the Rebellion is now under review, pending the outcome of Agent Kenobi's investigation into your alleged misconduct." 

Seaburn gawped at her, then at Obi-Wan. He guffawed, indignant, but swept from the room all the same. Cody felt himself relax incrementally once the man was gone, and fully turned to Obi-Wan. His eyes were hard, stormy, shuttered. Even at the peak of the war, Cody didn't think he'd ever seen his General lose control enough to destroy datapads with the Force. The one on the floor was far beyond repair. "Sir?" he prompted softly, hoping to wipe away the cold mask on Obi-Wan's face. 

Obi-Wan blinked at him, then down at his hands, cut and bleeding in a few places but not seriously enough to be a concern, then sighed heavily. 

"Sorry about that," Kat apologized and dropped into a chair, looking deeply tired. "He was building up to a tirade before you came in and I just couldn't listen to it anymore. I needed someone else to attest to him being," she gestured vaguely with an expression of disgust. "Like that. We're trying to weed the bigots out of command positions but you know how tedious that can be." 

"Don't worry about it. I never liked Seaburn" Obi-Wan grunted as he came out of that trance-like state. He waved his wrist and the datapad pieces clumped together, then he flicked it and the clump went flying into the bin. That was certainly hand for cleanup, if likely considered frivolous use of the Force. Cody thought he remembered his General griping at Skywalker about such things but then, Obi-Wan wasn't a _jetii_ anymore. Following Kat's lead, Obi-Wan slumped into his own chair at the table. "Something was always off about him." 

"His vibes were kriffing rancid, Agent Kenobi," a new, achingly familiar voice said from the doorway behind Cody. Obi-Wan stood back up so quickly that his chair rocked back, nearly toppled. Then, before Cody's body caught up to his brain, his ex-General was across the room with his arms flung around the newcomer.

Commander Tano got taller, was Cody's first thought after he unfroze and turned around, she was eye-to-eye with Obi-Wan. Hells, she wasn't even a kid anymore. 

Obi-Wan barked out a laugh and let Tano extricate herself from his grasp. "That they were. It's been a while, little one." 

Bitter memories of Tano's ejection from the Jedi Order surfaced in Cody's mind. The way Skywalker had raged for months on end; the calls he would get from Rex, scared half out of his wits that he and his men would get caught in their General's crossfire, that he would progress from damaging property to... well, clones were technically also property. The way Cody's own General had retreated inward, hating the injustice of it all and hating himself for being unable to defend and protect his Grandpadawan.

Seeing them smile at each other stitched a wound in Cody's chest that he hadn't known was still bleeding.

"Not so little anymore, _ver'gebuir_ ," Tano objected with a swat at her old teacher. Her eyes swept across the room, assessing, until it landed on Cody; it took far more effort than he recalled not to squirm under her gaze. After a tense once over, she smiled at him, too. "Hi, Cody. Welcome to the Rebellion?" 

"Good to see you, Commander Tano." He took a step forward and went to shake her proffered hand, but found himself yanked forward into a full embrace. After days of practice, Cody even managed not to be too stiff in returning the bone-crushing hug. "And happy to join the cause," he wheezed. Stumbling back a few steps upon release, he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. Obi-Wan coughed beside him, probably trying not to laugh. "You went and grew up, sir."

Tano just smirked at his remarkably astute observation. "Time will do that. How's things, Kat? Keeping busy?" she asked and strode over to the table to seat herself. Cody and Obi-Wan followed suit.

"You wouldn't even believe it," Kat grumbled, obviously pained by the reminder. "I should've just been happy in my little guard rotation, but no. Had to have opinions, had to get ambitious. For what? Paperwork? Babysitting? Spending _more_ time around Imps? I ought to demand a refund."

"Seniority giveth and seniority taketh away, sir," Cody said with a perfectly straight face.

Kat gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish, but he resolutely did not crack. "I cannot believe this sass, this absolute insubordination. Unbelievable!" She finally threw her head back and laughed. It was a bright, genuine sound that Cody figured wasn't heard often, and he allowed himself a smile. "If it turns out that you're actually funny, I don't know what I'll do. Promote you, probably." 

Obi-Wan chuckled at that. "That's more or less what I did, until I ran out of ranks to give him." 

Smirking like she was privy to some insider information, Kat shook her head and took a cleansing breath. Cody thought that she and Obi-Wan could probably make sighing into a competitive sport. Kat was making herself a serious contender, blowing out a stream of air for several seconds. "Alright, anyway. Tano, did you read the brief I sent you? Unless anyone has a legitimate objection, we're following through with that plan. I want the first squads to roll out tonight and scout the warehouse, then we'll move on it tomorrow morning. Best case, the workers cooperate, but if not then we can do this at blasterpoint. We'll hash out the details but I need to do a walkthrough of this base, get a headcount and put together some teams. You guys go eat or nap or something, I'll comm later." With that, she shoved herself to her feet, gathered a stack of datapads, and made to do her rounds. She paused to pull Tano into a one-armed hug and scowl at Obi-Wan over the Togruta's shoulder, then whisked out the doors, grumbling under her breath. 

The room seemed to still and settle once her highly stressed energy left its boundaries. 

"I supposed we'd best find some way to occupy ourselves," Obi-Wan speculated into the newfound calm. "Would you join me on a walk, Cody? I'm sure you have questions and it wouldn't do to hole up inside when the climate is so agreeable." 

Cody nodded without a second thought, as he always had. "I'm gonna go get some shut eye while I can," Tano said with a small smile. "No one bother me for at least an hour, please and thank you!" 

As naturally as breathing, Cody followed Obi-Wan through the base and out the back doors, then fell into step beside him on a boot trodden path. They wove into the trees, too far to see the base and far enough that Cody lost track of the way back. Obi-Wan didn't seem concerned, though, so neither was he. Stepping into a small clearing, bathed in the early morning light with long grass and vibrant patches of purple flowers was well worth the slight hike. 

"This is probably my favorite spot in the galaxy these days," Obi-Wan softly said, a sad tugging at the corner of his mouth. He dropped gracefully into a cross-legged position in the grass and breathed deeply. "The Force, for all its pain and chaos these days, feels at peace here. Dantooine is so deeply imbued with the Living Force by nature of its plant and wildlife that you can almost taste it. I never felt it so strongly before. Perhaps I _am_ getting old." 

Cody didn't know whether to smile or frown at that, so he kept his expression neutral as he pulled off his helmet and settled across from his old General. He didn't have a particularly good sense of nat-borns' perception of aging; the clones grew and matured twice as fast until they reached their physical prime, so he'd only really experienced natural aging for a few years. Even in the limited light, he could see that Obi-Wan's hair was starting to grey around his temples and that the lines in his face had grown deeper. "I think you're probably alright, sir." He was hardly Count Dooku, after all. 

"I know it's ingrained, but please try to do away with the formality," Obi-Wan sounded uneasy but his eyes sparked as they did when he was teasing. "The war is over, I'm not a General anymore. I don't really even have a rank in the Rebellion. If Kat had her way, you'll surely outrank me before long." 

And wasn't that a bizarre thought. "She doesn't seem to like you much," he acknowledged, hoping to get an answer to the implied question. 

"I don't know that it's dislike so much as exasperation." He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. It was long, Cody noted, a messy lob that just brushed his shoulders, reminiscent of the early days of the war. His beard was shorter as well, trimmed close to his jaw. Even with the grey, it all combined to make him look almost younger than he'd been during the war. Perhaps the decrease in burdensome responsibilities had more to do with that than grooming practices, though. Only a few times during the war did Cody ever see his General relax in any capacity, to such an extent that he'd occasionally wondered if he even knew how. It was a sharp contrast between Obi-Wan's ever visible stress and the image before him. "She thinks I'm too reckless, but it really is just overprotectiveness. It's not like I'm putting myself at any undue risk. Oddly enough, she reminds me a great deal of myself with-- during the war." 

Which made him Skywalker in this equation, which Cody didn't like at all. So he gracelessly changed the subject before either of them could think too hard on it. "What happened? After Utapau?" 

Obi-Wan grimaced and scratched at his beard in that same age-old tell of anxiety. "Well, I didn't die. I went back to Coruscant. Mace, Kit, and I confronted Palpatine, who revealed himself to be the Sith Lord we'd been looking for since the invasion of Naboo. Kit and Mace didn't survive the fight. I barely escaped with my life. Master Yoda showed me footage from the Purge at the Temple, showed me that Anakin had-- participated. Palpatine had been whispering in his ear since he was a boy, fanning that anger in him, and we were all too blind to see it. I was right there and I knew their relationship was strange but I was still so blind... I still failed him." His expression was tormented and Cody wished he could wipe that pain away. He wondered if Obi-Wan had ever talked about this with anyone, if there was anyone he _could have_ talked to. "Yoda sent me after Anakin, to Mustafar. It was a Foce-given miracle that I made it off that world, and you've seen what I did to him." At that, Obi-Wan's voice broke, his expression crumpled, and Cody was suddenly terrified that he was going to cry. He inched forward until their knees touched and took his hand, lined his own jagged edges up with those of his _dar'al'verde_. When Obi-Wan found his voice, it was a fragile, quiet thing. "I couldn't kill him, so I took a coward's way out. I maimed him, hoped the fire would take him for me, finish the job so I wouldn't have to. As you know, it didn't work out that way. After Mustafar, I went to Tatooine, found a place to live. I come and support the Rebellion from time to time, when they need a Force user or when a base needs raiding to get some your brothers free." 

"But you don't stay," Cody filled in one of many glaring blanks in the story. "With the Rebels, I mean."

"I'm needed elsewhere."

"On Tatooine." 

"Yes." 

He was avoiding the unspoken question. Usually, Cody wouldn't push at that avoidance but something was whispering in his ear that this was important. "What's on Tatooine, Obi-Wan?" 

For a drawn out moment, he waited for Obi-Wan to untangle the storm of emotion that he knew was hidden behind his shields. He almost unconsciously rubbed a thumb over his knuckles, soothing the tension there and easing the tight grip on his hand. "Padmé was pregnant," Obi-Wan finally said. 

That was just about as bad as the answer possibly could have been. Dawning realization hit him like a punch to the gut. "Skywalker's?" 

Force forgive him, Cody spat a vulgar string of curses when Obi-Wan nodded. But it got him a ghost of a smile. "Indeed. Twins, because everything always had to be maximally difficult with Anakin. One of them, the boy, Luke, is living with his aunt and uncle on Tatooine." 

"And you're his _cabur_ ," Cody had already put together. "You're hiding him from Vader."

" _Elek_ ," Obi-Wan agreed with a wince. "Luke is a good kid. I'm happy to be there for him, at least until someone can train him."

"Not you?"

"No, Cody, not me. I've led enough Skywalkers astray for one lifetime." Cody narrowed his eyes at that, but Obi-Wan didn't give him time to interject. "What about you? Do you want to talk about what happened?" 

Whether he wanted to or not, Cody couldn't speak the words. They got stuck in his throat. Gagged him when he tried to spit them out. He shook his head. "Not yet." 

Too intimately familiar with trauma, Obi-Wan knew better than to push so soon. So they sat in the clearing until the sun warmed the grass and morning faded into midday. Cody watched Obi-Wan relax into what was probably a light meditation and tried to draw some peace from the familiar action. He could feel the sun's heat on his cheeks, the wind in his hair, Obi-Wan's hand in his, the gentle pressure where their knees touched, blades of grass poking through his blacks, a rock in his boot. This was real. It was too imperfect and clear to be a dream. Breathing deeply, he squeezed his _dar'al'verde's_ hand and could almost convince himself that if this was real, then maybe things would be okay. That dangerous flicker of hope deep in his core made itself known again. 

Time was a distant concern as they sat in that clearing where the Force was calm and the air smelled of flowers and grass and life. Come evening, there would be yet another mission. Come morning, another in a lifetime of endless battles. But they had the moment, Cody thought. They were both alive in that moment and he wouldn't trade that for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seaburn was fun because I was like POS Time but let's also give him a borderline reasonable argument and have it devolve from there. this chapter was supposed to have more capital c Content and ended up mostly fluff which I guess is just how it goes sometimes
> 
> if I'm mixing up planets in my head and Dantooine actually Sucks then oops
> 
> the next chapter may take a little longer because I accidentally set myself up to write a battle scene HA 
> 
> this work is unbeta'd, please don't hesitate to point out issues/errors or leave feedback :)
> 
> Mando'a:  
>  _jetii_ \- (n) Jedi; plural: _jetiise_  
>  _vod_ \- (n) brother, sibling (Mando'a is gender neutral); plural: _vod'e_  
>  _osik_ \- (n) dung [impolite]  
>  _shebs_ \- (n) backside, rear, ass; may also refer to the back of a building  
>  _dar'al'verde_ \- (n) former General  
>  _ver'gebuir_ \- (n) lit. hired guardian; almost-father


End file.
